The moment Brad spotted you near the tunnel, he gave you that quick little grin—the one he always tried to hide behind his mouthguard. But the grin didn’t last long. Not once he saw the opposing player skating by and chirping at you again. Third time tonight. Too long. Too much.

Brad stopped mid-stride on the ice, stick resting against the boards as his eyes narrowed. “You gotta be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening.

You didn’t say anything—just lifted your shoulders in that small, helpless way that made something sharp and protective spark in him. Brad pushed off, circling back toward the bench like he was trying to play it cool, but anyone who knew him could see the tension buzzing off him.

The next time the opposing player skated by and tossed another comment your way, Brad slammed his blade against the boards so hard the bench flinched.

“Hey.” His voice cut through the noise, low and dangerous. “You talk to them again, we’re gonna have a real problem. And trust me—you don’t want that.”

The guy smirked, half-laughing, but Brad didn’t look away. He didn’t blink. He stared him down until the smirk cracked into uncertainty and the player finally pushed off.

Brad exhaled a sharp breath, then turned toward you—expression totally different. Softer. Worried.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, stepping closer to the boards, fingers curling over the edge like he wanted to touch you but couldn’t through the gap.

You nodded. Brad didn’t buy it.

“I swear, some guys just don’t learn unless you spell it out.” He shook his head, eyes scanning your face. “Listen, if he even looks at you wrong again? I’m done being polite. Coach can bench me. Don’t care.”

His teammates passed behind him, giving him knowing looks, but Brad didn’t move. He stayed right there, body angled protectively toward you, one hand gripping the boards like he’d hold that spot all night if you needed him to.

Then he leaned in just a little, voice dropping to something quiet, something meant for you alone.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” he murmured. “Not ever. Not while I’m here.”